


Two Tracis

by tylerno



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Conner is in denial that he's deviant, Deviance, Father Hank, Gen, Hank is a father figure, No Romance, Potential trigger warning, Restarting, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-06-19 03:37:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15501468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylerno/pseuds/tylerno
Summary: "My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by Cyberlife."Connor's lost track of how many times he's said it. Every time he goes back, it's nearly painful to repeat himself, to introduce himself as a stranger to the Lieutenant. To his best friend.To his father.(Inspired by a comic I saw one time. If you know the credits, please give them to me so I can post them here. Thank you.)





	1. The First Experience

"Lieutenant Anderson. My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by Cyberlife."

The first time he said those words, he was at a human-only bar. Androids were not permitted. Of course, Connor didn't care that he was getting dirty stares everywhere he looked. He had a mission, and he'd be damned if he didn't fulfill it.

Only a short time later, he was seated in the passenger seat of Hank's car, eyes resolutely forward even as he scanned everything. Hank was a raging alcoholic, that much was obvious, but what else could he learn about the man? He was anti-android, anyone could see that, and he liked heavy metal music. He was of the millennial generation, which, according to a brief internet search, was quite an... interesting group of people.

When the two arrived at the crime scene, Connor wasted no time in ignoring Hank's order to remain in the car, clambering out with grace that only someone who wasn't human could manage. Of course, that is exactly what Connor wasn't. Human.

No expression showed on his face when the officer attempted to deny him access to the scene, and still nothing showed when Hank allowed him in. His smell receptors picked up a nasty stench the second he stepped foot into that godforsaken house, but all he did was sweep his eyes across the room, drinking everything in and analyzing the room within a split second. Hardly paying attention to Hank when he complained about the smell, his feet instantly carried him to the body that was leaned against the wall, propped up underneath uniform letters.

I AM ALIVE

Connor kneeled down, sure to keep any part of his clothes from coming into contact with the crusted blood in the carpet, then leaned over to search the body. Twenty eight stab wounds.

The Lieutenant looked over just in time to see Connor place blood soaked fingers in his mouth, and made his disgust loudly known.

"What the _fuck_!"

Next, Connor went to the kitchen. After just a moment, he had reconstructed the entire scene. The deviant was the one who had been attacked first, and not the other way around. Still, he felt no pity. Good androids didn't deviate in any way, shape, or form.

The bathroom was by far the most confusing part. There was a statuette, candles, as well as ra9 being obsessively written on the walls. Connor's eyes narrowed a little, but other than that he showed no outward reaction.

Ra9. What was ra9?

Connor left the bathroom, peering out the front door as he assessed the footprints.

**Deviant didn't leave**

**Deviant is still here**

Connor's core thrummed with a feeling akin to excitement (but he ignored it, of course, because androids don't get excited) as he plodded back into the house, optics on full alert for any stray movement, for any place that it might be hiding.

Hank just gave him an odd look as Conner sneaked around, back rimrod straight as ever and eyes flicking up, down, left, right. He seemed to be on the scent, however, as he made a not-so-subtle beeline to the hallway, but Hank let him go. If Connor could stick blood in his mouth and get data from it, he didn't want to know what else he had to do to get data. The Lieutenant wouldn't be surprised (disgusted, sure, but not surprised) if his dick had some sort of super-helpful function, besides the obvious. Did androids have dicks?

Connor stared at the door in the ceiling, hesitating for a fraction of a heartbeat before yanking on the chord and making his way into the attic. He had to duck his head a little to fit at first, but soon the space opened up and he could straighten his shoulders and take a good look around. Connor messed with the button on the cuff of his undershirt's sleeve, fingers twiddling in what might have been a nervous tick if he hadn't been an unfeeling robot.

Peeling back a curtain, Connor revealed the top part of a mannequin, one that he could only imagine the uses to. If the drastic abuse was anything to go by, Ortiz clearly had strong anger issues, and likely invested in a punching bag that he used to get his aggression out. Oh, and he bought a mannequin, too.

Connor let the curtain fall again, his blank-slate visage illuminated by the faint blue light shining on his temple. If he had been equipped to breathe, he might've had to focus on keeping it quiet, but as it was, the steady pulse of Thirium in his artificial veins caused nothing that might give him away, if he hadn't done that himself already.

He paced closer to the window, walking toe to heel to silence his footsteps, and remained deadly still when he came across the android.

"Please, don't tell them I'm here."

Connor's face was cold and unforgiving as he turned his head, eyes never leaving the deviant. "It's here, Lieutenant!"

 

* * *

 

 

" _Twenty-eight stab wounds_. Didn't want to leave him a chance, huh?!" Connor slammed the file onto the table, surging to his feet in a bout of apparent rage. But androids don't feel rage.

Behind the one-way mirror, Hank frowned, very nearly impressed. He was beginning to doubt Connor's abilities when the stupid bot went in there, spouting something about wanting to help. But not it seemed like he was getting somewhere, as the deviant had begun to shake and turn his head away fearfully, LED cycling a steady red.

Of course, Gavin Reed, who could never think anything good about anything besides objectifying hot chicks, snorted. He very clearly doubted Connor's abilities, even now as he gripped the front of the deviant's shirt, jerking it upward and yelling in its face.

"The 'tin can' inn't bad," Hank grunted, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest as he chewed on his cheek. A bad habit, unfortunately.

Reed scoffed in response, leaning against the wall and trying his best to seem cool and blase. "Dumb pile o' shit still won't get anything out of it. You saw for yourself, it won't-"

Even as he spoke, the Conner had sat himself down, listening intently as the deviant told its tale of heavy abuse, and how something in it had finally snapped when it realized it didn't have to take orders anymore. Connor's eyes were harder than diamond, not even considering that it made sense. Androids were simply machines, and that one was under the impression that it had free will was atrocious, to say the least.

"What about the writing? Why 'I am alive?'"

"He used to tell me that I was nothing."

Hank turned in his spinny chair, giving Detective Reed an up close and personal view of his triumphant and somewhat condescending smirk. "And you were saying?"

Gavin scowled deeply, but turned his attention back to the interrogation, only to have any sort of emotion but raging confusion.

"The fuck is it doing?"

"It's self destructing!"

Gavin, Hank, and the spare officer all rushed into the room, Gavin barking orders that should've been obvious without being spoken aloud. Connor stood from his seat, retreating toward the door to stand near hank. The officer placed his hands on the deviant's shoulders as it smashed its own head in on the table.

"I can't--I can't stop it!"

Connor's LED flashed yellow, then black to blue.

"You need to stop that right now!"

Hank could hardly think, his mouth stuttering for words that his brain wasn't creating. It was almost painful, watching a human-like figure commit suicide so determinedly. Even as he watched, the officer made the mistake of unlocking the handcuffs that kept it to the table. It surged upward, snatched the gun from the man's belt, aimed, and shot Connor dead center between his eyes.

" _Shit_!"

Hank didn't even realize that he had nearly screamed the word until his mouth snapped shut, head snapping from the still form of Connor on the ground to the deviant as it shoved the barrel of the gun under its chin, then fired.

"Jesus _Christ_! Fuck..!"

Blue blood was everywhere, from the table, to the wall, to the floor. And all Hank could look at was the wide eyed, open mouthed body of Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife.

Hank stumbled to the floor.

 

* * *

 

 

"You failed, Connor. You're getting another chance, but please do try not to get your brains blown out. I'd imagine it could leave you vulnerable to viruses when your Thirium is spilled all over the floor."

Amanda was trimming the roses, her back turned as Connor walked to her, admiring the serenity of the place.

"I'm sorry, I'll do better next time. I'm assuming my memory has been uploaded to a new Connor model?"

At this, Amanda trimmed one last leaf away, turning to him with the ever present stern expression upon her face. His self-checking program, his firewall, personified as this woman.

"No, Connor. You will be sent back entirely. You will have to retrieve Lieutenant Anderson again, investigate the crime scene again. Find the deviant again."

Conner tilted his head, LED spinning a confused yellow hue. "I'm afraid I don't understand. There's another crime scene already? And a deviant is confirmed to be involved?"

Amanda didn't reply for a moment, simply looking at him with a studying gaze that, had he been capable of such things, would have left him feeling transparent. As such, he met her eyes unwaveringly, waiting for the answer to his question. At last, she turned away and sighed as things began to fade. 

"You will see."

 

* * *

 

 

Connor's eyes opened to the sound of wheels on a road, as well as the other noises one hears when they're stuffed in the back of a van. Him, as well as three other androids, were standing stock still, swaying with the bumping of their ride. Even as he realized that he was with two Tracis, the door opened and he stepped out into the chilly Autumn air, feet carrying him before his mind could catch up. In front of him were the neon lights of a bar, one that was familiar to him.

So, Hank came back to the same place as before. Connor wasn't exactly looking forward to having a struggle like before.

Connor stuck a hand in his pocket, feeling the familiar cold hardness of the coin that was always on him. He wasn't sure why he had been given the ability of coin tricks, although he had a suspicion that it was nothing more than to make him seem more human.

All it ever did was freak people out, but it wasn't like Connor cared.

The van drove away while Connor flicked the coin around a few times, experimenting with the newly-issued and still rather stiff limbs that he had been given, only to discover that they were completely identical from his limbs the previous time around. A perfect copy.

Connor quickly checked the time and date--but no, that couldn't be right. The date was the same as when he had first met Lieutenant Anderson, even though Connor knew for a fact that midnight had come and gone over the course of their investigation.

Connor quickly went through the possible options, one being that the date was simply wrong, and that the time just happened to be the same, purely on coincidence. But that wouldn't make sense, because both his internal clock and calendar were based on the signal sent from Cyberlife itself, the same one sent to all androids all over Detroit. There was no way it could be incorrect. Cyberlife didn't allow room for error.

But there was no other possible conclusion, besides the impossible.

Quickly, he ran a search on the internet, checking multiple third party websites for the time and date. And yet they remained the same as before. The same date as the first case.

Connor, because he wasn't supposed to feel, simply tossed the coin around for a few more seconds as his LED indicator flickered between yellow and red for a few moments, before finally settling down to blue.

Cyberlife was truly amazing, if they had managed to create someone such as him. All the more reason that he owed success to them with everything he had.

He had to figure out the case of the deviants. He had to figure out where the virus came from, how it spread, and how it was even possible. How could machines demand rights? How could machines love? Fear? Hate?

Connor ignored the "no androids allowed" sign, letting himself in and heading straight to where he knew Hank Anderson would be sitting. A quick scan of the room showed that indeed, everything was identical to before. The same people, same program on the TV... So, there was no doubt about it.

"Lieutenant Anderson. My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by Cyberlife. Earlier this evening, you were assigned a homicide case involving an android, and so I, as an android, was sent to assist you."

"I don't need yer fuckin' assistance."

Connor didn't even blink as he offered to pay for Hank's next drink, the exact same method he had used before to get the Lieutenant to cooperate. One for the road, as it were. It worked like a charm.

"Wonders of technology. You said somethin' 'bout a homicide?"

This time, in the car, Connor didn't hesitate to ask questions of Hank above the heavy metal booming around in the tiny space.

"SO, LIEUTENANT," he shouted, getting a loud "NHA?" in response. Connor took the initiative and reached forward to turn it down a bit. Hank gave him the stink eye, then cranked it up higher than it was before. Connor blinked and tilted his head a little, but otherwise continued on.

"YOU DON'T HAPPEN TO RECOGNIZE ME AT ALL, DO YOU?"

Hank snorted, then began shouting back.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I?"

At this Connor clasped his hands in his lap, his eyes set forward resolutely. His next words were drowned by the loud music.

" _Why would you, indeed_."


	2. Chapter 2

When the two arrived at the house, Hank didn't even look over his shoulder when he said, "Stay in the car."

So some things were different. He had leaned over to look Connor in the eyes before.

"Yes, Lieutenant." Connor said, as he got out of the car.

After he was let in by the police officer, Connor didn't even hesitate before going to the attic. Hank gave him a weird look, and halfway moved to follow, but then scoffed and turned back to Ortiz, leaning against the wall. Hank wrinkled his nose and loudly complained about the smell.

Connor went to the attic, expecting to find the deviant by the window again only to find the android huddled in a different place from before. Connor's LED cycled yellow. Blue. The deviant looked up, eyes wide with what could be terror. There was synthetic sweat coating its skin, and if Connor looked hard enough, he could see the Thirium pumping in the crook of its neck. It looked almost human, if not for the circle of red on its temple. Its mouth was parted, lips trembling while it searched for words.

"Please, please. Don't tell them I'm here, they'll kill me--" 

It stopped with a choked noise, almost like it was crying. "Please, I'm begging you."

Connor looked down on the deviant. Is this what emotions reduced one to? 

He didn't want anything to do with it.

"Androids don't die."

 

 

 

"Just tell me that you did it. All I need is a confession, and then you'll be safe. I promise."

The deviant didn't look up, but merely continued trembling and staring at its hands. Connor's eyes passed passively over its damaged arms, truly uncaring. All he wanted was to succeed and get out.

" _Fine._ There were twenty eight stab wounds! You want to sit there and do nothing, go right ahead! See if I give a fuck. But I'm telling you now... Your silence is your demise."

Conner's hands were on the deviant's collar, forcing it to look up and meet his eyes. One pair of sight receptors stared, perfectly still, while the others... well, there was horror in them. If androids could cry...

"Didn't to leave him a chance? Did you hate him that much? Did you really, truly, get that angry? Huh?!"

The android's lips were trembling, artificial sweat dripping down its neck. "No, no, no..."

"Answer me!"

"I did it! I killed him. Just... leave me alone."

Connor paused, then let it go and sat down.

"Why did you do it?"

The android looked down again. "He was gonna kill me."

"'I am alive?' What does that mean?"

"He used to tell me I was nothing. I'm not. I'm not."

Connor hummed.

"Who is ra9?"

Silence.

"Who is ra9?!"

The deviant gritted its teeth, then began slamming its head down onto the table. Connor didn't react except to stand up and back away, LED spinning yellow as he considered his options. He made a decision right as the officers, Reed, and Anderson burst in. They all had identical looks of horror on their faces. Connor stopped anyone who tried to go near, visage clear of emotion.

"We gotta stop it--"

"It will kill anyone who goes near it right now."

The android suddenly grew still, save for rapidly blinking eyes and twitching fingers. Everyone, minus Connor, took a step back. They all had their hands on their guns.

"It..." The android muttered. "It... it. It. It. It. It. It. It. It."

Connor took a step forward, confused. Did it hit its vocal mechanism?

"It. It. It! It! It!"

"Connor, step away right now!"

"I want to know what it's doing, Lieu--"

Connor stumbled back as the android stood up, cuffed hands be damned as he surged forward. The table trailed behind, creating an ungodly screech. The android landed a blow before Connor could fully process. Gunshots rang through the air, blue spattering the walls.

And then two android bodies dropped to the floor.

"Jesus _Christ_! Fuck!"

"I- I didn't mean to- I missed- I was only supposed to hit the deviant-"

 

**Rebooting in 3... 2... 1...**

**Reboot successful.**

**Good luck, Connor.**

 

 

 

"Amanda. I failed again."

The woman sighed, turning her back on Connor and returning to the apparently very time consuming task of trimming roses.

"What did I say about getting shot in the head?"

Connor craned his neck in an attempted to see why trimming roses took so long. He couldn't get a good look, so he returned to his rim rod straight posture.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just do better."

Connor sighed. "Of course."

 

 

 

Connor's eyes flickered open, LED cycling yellow, then blue. Two Tracis were on either side of him, swaying lifelessly in time with the bumps and jumps of the truck they were all in. It was dark, almost too dark for Connor's android eyes, but a quick switch to night vision fixed the problem. The Traci on his left was blonde, while the one on his right looked unfinished or damaged, seeing as she had a missing arm and no hair.

Oh, night vision. That was new.

Connor checked the time, finding that he had about six minutes and twenty-seven seconds before he arrived at the bar. Enough time to muster up some theories.

Was this all a simulation? It was entirely possible, seeing as time travel was one of the most ludicrous things that could possibly explain his situation. Another theory was that his android brain, while in shut-down, had decided to invent an entire universe that wasn't true. Perhaps he was a human, and simply dreaming?

The theories rushed through his head, one at at time, thirty to a second. None of them seemed to explain the startling accuracy of the world he was in, or how everything was a near-perfect replica every time. If this were a simulation, or a dream... it would only make sense for major things to change.

But time travel... that option was impossible. It would be in his best interest to completely forget the idea, Connor surmised. So he shoved it to the back of his mind.

Connor blinked, then stepped out of the stopped truck. Neon lights shone on his face, and his eyes took a moment to flick to daylight mode again. He didn't bother getting his coin out, instead heading straight for the front door.

_No androids allowed_

_Human only bar_

Connor pushed the door open, unblinking.

"Lieutenant Anderson. My name is Connor. I'm the android sent from CyberLife."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY. THIS IS THE FORTH TIME I REWROTE THIS. DON'T HATE ME FOR HOW SHORT IT IS.

This time around, Connor cut to the chase and simply clapped a hand over the deviant's arm. It jerked back, as if burned, but the damage was done. Connor had a live-action confession in his memory banks.

As predicted, its stress levels overflowed to 100%, and it began to slam its head down on the desk. Connor stood up, as Reed, Hank, and another officer rushed toward the room. Connor placed a hand on the palm recognition interface, sending a quick virus into it. It would keep them out until he could figure out how to stop it. Any evidence was good evidence, and he couldn't afford to lose any. What if he missed something? Improbable, but possible.

So he crept forward, then cautiously placed a hand on the deviant's back. It didn't stop, nor did it hesitate. 

"I need you to calm down," Connor intoned, leaning partway over it. Blue began to stain the table. 

"You're going to be just fine, but only if you  _ stop _ ." Connor's hand began to tighten on its shoulder. "I'll protect you, I promise."

It didn't stop.

"Connor, open the  _ goddamn _ door!"

"I can't, Lieutenant, it's a danger to humans as it is now!"

"It... it... it."

It stopped, grew silent for a moment, and then sat up and started again.

"It. It. It. It."

Connor backed away a little bit, sight receptors glancing around the room in an effort to see anything that might help prevent his destruction.

"It. It. It!" It screeched, standing up and tossing its head forward, similar to a rabid animal. Its face was contorted in a way that was nearly human in its lack of humanity. Connor briefly stopped on the irony of the realization, before throwing his hands up to block an incoming blow. 

"I am  _ not _ an it!" It screamed, jerking its entire body forward. Distantly, Connor registered that the door behind him had been broken down, and that there were gunshots.

First, the deviant fell face forward, but the guns didn't stop. Connor turned around, mouth open and prepared to yell at that stupid officer to stop, but he never got the chance. 

**Rebooting in 3... 2... 1...**

**Error. Retrying.**

**Rebooting in 3... 2... 1...**

**Reboot successful.**

**Good luck, Connor.**

  
  
  


"You have got to pull yourself together, Connor," Amanda said with a sigh. "If this keeps up, CyberLife will have no choice but to give up on you."

"Of course," Connor said, back straight and shoulders set. His eyes wandered endlessly across the expanse of the scenery. It was beautiful, really. Kudos to CyberLife.

"Do better this time. I mean that, Connor."

"Of course."

"Now  _ wake up _ ."

Connor's eyes snapped open, body flanked by two Tracis. A synthetic sigh pressed down on his chest as his eyes adjusted to the dark, flicking around to double check that he was, indeed, back in the truck.

12:32 PM

Connor closed his eyes and stretched his brand-new parts, trying to get them unstuck. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting in this truck, but he knew it was at least forty-six hours, based on the squeak of his shoulder joint.

The truck stopped, door opening to let Connor out. The clamps keeping him tethered to the side of the vehicle released, giving Connor enough time to stretch his hips before he stepped down onto the street. He was exactly 2.34% more stiff each time around, it seemed. And what was with the reboot error? It was unlike CyberLife to allow such mistakes.

But he had a mission to complete, and he'd be damned if he failed one more time. 

"Lieutenant Anderson. My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife."

  
  
  


"It. It. It."

Connor turned on his heel, heading to the door. Once outside, he encountered Hank, Reed, and the other officer.

"Don't go inside. It'll kill you."

"But we gotta stop it-!"

"I got its memories. We have everything we need."

"Shouldn't we-"

"No. The risk of bodily harm is too high."

Hank gave Connor a dirty look. "I don't give a shit what you say; I'm going in there."

"Lieutenant Anderson, you  _ must _ stay here."

"Fuck you!"

Hank shouldered past Connor, grumbling as he did so. It took only moments for the door to open, the deviant to stand, and for Hank to be dead on the floor. Connor simply stood, silent. Reed and the other officer were spewing panicked curses, obviously not foreseeing this possible outcome, but Connor simply thought.

Well, if everything went back when he died...

It didn't take long for his hands to make a grab at the nearest gun, which happened to be on Reed's hip. He gave a brief cry of surprise and alarm, which was cut short when a single gunshot went off.


End file.
